


You're Such a Punk

by ICALLYOUMUFFINS



Category: No Fandom
Genre: Blow Jobs, Dirty Talk, F/M, Hand Jobs, Kissing, NCMO, Oral Sex, Orgasm, PWP without Porn, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Smut, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-07
Updated: 2015-02-07
Packaged: 2018-03-10 21:50:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3304673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ICALLYOUMUFFINS/pseuds/ICALLYOUMUFFINS
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A passionate hook up and a first time blow job.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're Such a Punk

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time posting a fic! And a huge thanks to my wonderful beta, cupcake.

“You’ve been waiting for that, haven’t you?” Spoon said with sultry eyes as he pulls back from a deep kiss. Vinaigrette, who in fact had been waiting since they had arranged this unorthodox meeting in the late hours of the previous night, only to wake up and attend three hour long meetings back to back without a drop of coffee in her veins. Her skin had tingled with the anticipation of waiting as she sat with her back against the brick wall on the top landing of a tucked away stairwell used only by the occasional janitor to check the A/C units on the roof of the building. Vinaigrette mused in her waiting as to what kind of lover Spoon would be.

The unlikely pair had met less than twenty four hours ago in a poorly furnished off-yellow lounge of his apartment complex. Vinaigrette had been there with her flatmate who was lusting after a flirty latino Flat Bread. While the two of them were busy watching a satire action movie on a pixilated screen, Vinaigrette floated to the ancient looking billiards table where Two were not playing (as there seemed to be a lack of ques) but rather attempting to roll the spheres in all different directions and angles till they landed in a pocket. Vinaigrette, joined in on their game and when all the little spheres were safely nestled away, Spoon, a blond all american boy, sat down on the sofa to casually flick through his pocket device. Salsa, the second of the Two, a tall creature who gave the appearance of still learning how to use his limbs said to Vinaigrette, “Wanna play a real game?” “Sure.” Vinaigrette responded, as she began to scoop out the spheres and roll them towards Salsa. Not having a stick made the game interesting but they both played and carried a gentle conversation.

It was one of those conversations where words are exchanged but the only active muscles are the vocal cords, the brain remains in a state not dissimilar from that of oatmeal. As the white sphere spent several turns chasing the only ebony hued fellow in eyesight, Vinaigrette’s brain began to compose itself into a slightly more gelatinous structure and started to engage in a conversation with Spoon about his passion for underground media. His conversation skills were adequate, something she valued, but he also had this air that gave one a sense of serenity. She felt very at ease with him.

Not long after, Vinaigrette’s flatmate gave the look that every female knows by heart which in the space of a few milliseconds, conveys the message, “It-is-time-to-go-right-now-because-I-decided-I-don’t-really-like-this-guy-and-can-no-longer-handle-his-overt-glances” Taking the hint, Vinaigrette, stood up and motioned for the door and ushered the irritated girl out. As she was passing through the doorway, Spoon said “Hey we should hang out sometime.” More focused on her friend, Vinaigrette flew over her shoulder the words “of course, send me a message.”

When she arrived home and pulled out her pocket device, there was a message from him. Her heart did a stutter step as she had not fully expected him to contact her at all. As they continued to chat via pocket device, Vinaigrette began to flirt ever so gently with her new found friend. He proved to be more intune then she had initially estimated because no more than ten minutes into the conversation he wrote “Quit flirting with me devil woman!” followed by a wink.

“Would you prefer I flirt with Salsa?”  
“Depends… Depends on what the perks of flirting with you are ;) "  
“ Well I am a fabulous conversationalist, I am great at kissing, and I make yummy desserts”  
“Are you implying that if I flirt with you, you’re gonna kiss me and make me food?”  
“A thinly veiled implication ;) ”

Following, they decided to meet the next day and see where fate would take them. After they both signed off for the night, Vinaigrette, lay in her bed feeling some anxiety for what was to come. How long had it been since she had taken a lover? How long since she had felt the intimate touch of another? As her brain slowly drifted to sleep her final thought was “I better not have lost my touch.” For you see Vinaigrette was a peculiar being, she had the divine ability to ooze confidence from every pore as she struts through a crowd of people in her designer boots but at the end of the day she had no more confidence than a pen which had run out if ink. 

 

“Hells yeah I’ve been waiting.” Vinaigrette says in what she hopes is a seductive voice only to realize the words themselves were quite silly to begin with. Spoon laughs under his breath and as he brings his lips back to hers, whispers “You’re such a punk” and proceeds to wrap one arm around her to pull them closer together and one hand reaches down to grasp her denim covered ass. Her arms drape dramatically over his strong shoulders and her hips find a rhythm that seems to float in a cloud of ether created by their passion. Their lips are locked so tight that breathing seems to be forgotten. She slips her tongue between his teeth and he pulls it deeper in, sucking and twisting with his own. His hand starts digging around in the unnecessary number of layers of cloth covering her torso. She pulls back and with fumbling fingers unzips her leather jacket, shrugging her shoulders and unceremoniously depositing it to the ground. She lunges forward to continue their kiss, her left hand wrapped around the back of his head and her right over his shoulder, open palmed between his shoulder blades. They move in unison a few steps this way and sway a few steps the other way eventually ending with her back against the brick wall.

She revels in the sensations brought on by this position. The cold rough texture pressing on her shoulder blades and the soft body radiating heat in front of her, the sharp contrast electrifys her skin. As if knowing exactly what she needs, her lover begins to pepper her with kisses. The side of her lips, up her jaw to the crease of her neck, and down to her collarbone where he is again met with the inconveniences of clothing. This time he assists in the removal of the unnecessary items, the two giggle as the black tee shirt gets stuck around her head with her arms suspended mid air. She wiggles out of it and his mouth resumes the exploration of her pale flesh.

When he reaches the valley created by her caged bosom she hesitates for just a moment, turning her head so as not to look at him and says “Sorry I know they’re ugly.” He places a tender hand on her cheek and rotates her to look at him. “Why would you think that?” he says in a tone that does not convey pity but genuine concern as to her opinion on this particular matter. “They are scarred and stretched and…” her voice trails off. It is true. While her skin is exceptionally beautiful it does not recover easily and is spotted with fiery discolorations and stripes like a tiger. Spoon feels adamant protest to this and exclaims “No, they are beautiful!” and proceeds to scoop her left breast out of its lacy confinement and lavish it with kisses and sucklings. Spoon reaches around her to unclasp the thirty dollar article of clothing. Her nipples become diamonds as he brushes his thumbs over them. Vinaigrette’s breath catches at the top of her lungs. What happens next will suck even more of the oxygen from her already palpitating respiratory system. His hand, which has still been planted firmly on her ass, slithers around to the front of her jeans.

Spoon leans close to Vinaigrette’s ear and whispers “Your panties are wet.” She suppresses a laugh and snorts back “I wonder why!” His fingers reach under the elastic waistband and find her smooth mound of flesh and her dripping folds. His kiss muffles any sounds she makes as he massages the cluster of nerves that for far too long were accustomed only the middle and ring finger of her right hand. The continual circle he paints with her succulent medium makes her knees go weak and a guttural growl erupt from deep in her chest. Again she was forced to pause as she realized how far she had let herself go. How unfeminine it is to growl at one's pleasure. Her self consciousness quickly vanished as his fingers thrust deep inside of her, his thumb circling her throbbing clit. She falls over the brink, lost in a ocean of ecstasy. Her knees go weak and her back arches. Her lovers strong arms supporting her as the final waves of her orgasm eb away.

She looks up at him through her lashes and he leans in to kiss her some more. With her body pressed against his she feels his manhood pressing against her. He unbuttons his pants and she reaches a hand down to palm at his hard cock through the layer of cotton. A quick confessional, all of Vinaigrette’s previous lovers had been of a female persuasion. She had no clue what she was suppose to do with the massive member between his legs. So she attempted to act natural and see how his body would respond. Now it is his turn to lose breath as she allows her fingers to creep under the elastic band and wrap around his cock.

Vinaigrette leans in close and nibbles his earlobe and she whispers in a hot moaning voice “Are you gonna cum for me baby?” and before he could reply she brings her lips to his in their most passionate kiss so far. Spoon pulls back and says “Sometimes people will use spit as a sort of lubricant.” Taking the hint, Vinaigrette brings her hand up to her bottom lip and without breaking eye contact, spits into her palm and resumes her stroking. What she does next surprises both of them.

Vinaigrette slides down to her knees and takes his cock into her mouth. She had anticipated it being so big and for a moment her gag reflex kicked and his is forced to pull back but compensates by bringing her right hand up to stroke the base in rhythm with her mouth. He started a chant of “fuck yeah, right there, oh baby” He places a hand gently on either side of her head gently guiding in and out. His head rolls back and his eyes close in pleasure as she brings him closer and closer to orgasm until it finally hits! She sucks on the head for a few more moments making sure to get every last drop and swallowing it all.

As he comes down from his high, Vinaigrette sits back on her heels and looks up at him through her charcoal lashes.Her beatific blue eyes looking up at his as a playful smirk flits across her face. When he opens his eyes to look at her she ask innocently “Was it good?” “Oh my goodness you were so good!” He praises as he leans down to kiss her forehead while simultaneously lifting her to a standing position to brace in a final goodbye kiss.


End file.
